Unconscious that his movements were watched, Shotbolt, meanwhile, hastened towards Wych Street. She was a woman now to the tips of her fingers; she had said good-bye to her girlhood in the old garden four years and a quarter ago. Her mind developed into savage wrath at the present conditions of a woman’s life. But although startled and clearly afraid, there was no self-consciousness in her gaze and she was standing her ground.
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